37 weeks, 2 days

Call me crazy, but I think the last few weeks are the best part of pregnancy. It's the most fun. For one thing, there's the suspense. Now that it's safe to give birth, every time I have a Braxton-Hicks contraction I get to wonder, is this the start of something? Is tonight the night? I'm not one who's anxious for pregnancy to end -- especially now that I'm well aware how time-consuming babies can be -- because I have hardly gotten any of the preparations done. But having a ticking clock makes life a little more like a game show, and that's what I want out of life, pretty much. Gameshowosity.

Also, a pregnant woman's body is so bizarrely misshapen by this point that we provide entertainment for the public not unlike a balloon animal might. And since it takes me such a long time to seriously show, I'm just now getting the help and mommy cred I deserve in public. Today someone carried my stroller down the stairs at the L for me (Although another man did *not* offer to do the same while walking behind me up the stairs at the other L station. I apologized to him for Nutmeg and I blocking the stairway with our slow progress, and he said, "That's alright!")

Then there's the "bag full of squirrels" belly movements. Since my babies tend to be packed in like sausages, by the end of pregnancy my belly gets weird wiggling protrusions out the sides and front on a regular basis. When one of the midwives (my favorite so far) was about to put on the Doppler this week, Filbertine treated her to a dramatic ripple, much to the midwife's amusement.

The way my back feels right now? Less amusing. And if you can find a comedian who can build a credible routine out of middle-of-the-night acid reflux, why, that comedian belongs on Letterman, Leno and Conan every night for the rest of eternity. And wouldn't that be a lovely way for everyone in America to spend their late nights, thinking about acid reflux? Hey, if I have to ...